“I’ve never had a chance. My whole life has been nothing but serving as some plaything for men since I grew these,” she cupped her breasts as she spoke. “You don’t know where I came from, or what my life has been. Get out of here, all of you.”
Rasmus squeezed my shoulder to signal me to go, and as I went, I turned back to her before closing the door and said, “If you change your mind, you know where to go.”
She never looked away from her own reflection in the mirror, and the three of us continued on until we reached the front door. “Wait,” Rasmus said, looking back at the blood that now ran from the counter where the innkeeper had stood. He tilted his head and looked at me from beneath his bushy red brows, and I nodded.
“He pulled this gun on me. It’s a nice one, too. Here, you can have it,” I said, handing him the pistol.
“Jesus, lass, you’ve pirate in your damn blood, don’t ye?” he asked, pushing me towards the open door.
I stopped and looked up at him. His blue eyes were burning me again, and the molten defeat I’d felt only moments before, transformed into solid rock. “You already know I do, but you’re in my blood, too, and don’t you forget it.”
“Mick, take that horse ye came here on and get back to the ship. Razor and I will find Fin,” Rasmus said as we headed back to Tomlin’s stable.
“Did Francis, by chance, happen to mention when she last saw him?” I asked.
“Yes,” was all he replied.
Once Mick was on his way, Rasmus led me to a tavern that was about a five minute walk from Tomlin’s and the Windy. It sat back in an alley and reminded me of the dank tavern where I’d had my first drink in Port Royal. The night was dark, and when we stepped inside, the atmosphere didn’t offer us much light. The place was small, as one would imagine an alley tavern would be. There were no more than ten round tables that seated two people, and the bar was perhaps twelve feet in length and seated six. There were no fancy drapes, no music, and no dancing whores to entertain. This was a place for eating, drinking, and sleeping… no more. At least, that was my perception.
“Sit here. I’ll see what they have in the way of food and drink,” he ordered, and I obeyed, taking my seat in a wobbly chair that appeared not to have been cleaned since it was first placed at the table. I wasn’t keen on eating anything that was cooked or prepared in this filthy hole, but I was starving, and the needs of my stomach outweighed my better judgement. There was no lantern on the table. Just a solitary white candle pressed with melted wax into an old pewter plate. I was grateful that it was at least lit.
“They’s been a murder at the Windy!” I overheard a scraggy old seaman say as he drug himself into the tavern on crutches and one barely good leg. I imagined his vocation was bringing news to the patrons along the alleyway taverns, as he didn’t stay, but only made his deathly announcement and carried on.
Rasmus came to the table with a plate of bread and some sort of stew that smelled surprisingly good. He set it down and pushed it in front of me. “Eat.”
“What about Fin?” I asked, tearing off a hunk of bread and dipping it in the stew.
“He’s upstairs,” he answered, pouring ale from a pitcher into his cup.
“Did Francis tell you he was here?”
“Let me fill my belly, and I’ll tell you what she told me.”
We sat, eating in silence. This meal was so far removed from our loving and jovial breakfast that I could scarcely recall what we ate. He didn’t look up at me. He didn’t make jokes or tell me funny stories to make me laugh. I struggled to keep from speaking between bites, and my mind ran wild with wonderings of what Francis had told him. I also kept my eye on the staircase near the back of the room. If Fin was, in fact, upstairs, there was no way in hell he was getting away.
“He isn’t going anywhere,” Rasmus said and took a long drink.
“Why are you drinking like that?”
“I’m thirsty. So…” he said, wiping his mouth and beard with his hand. “He’s hiding from the same sort he used to do business with, or so he believes. His intention was to snag Francis and bring her back, but she ran him off the same way she did me. Those who used to work with Barclay know Fin’s face, and they’ll cut it off if they think he’s turned on ‘em. There’d be too many questions he’d have to answer, and I don’t think he’s bright enough to lie. He’ll come back with us without a fight. He hasn’t anywhere else to go.”
“How did you know he was here?”
“I already spoke to him. I ran into him on his way out of the Windy. I sent him here. The owner over there, Jack Harper, and I are old mates. He was one of my crew aboard the Majesty’s Venture. I told Fin to give Jack my name, and he’d put him up until I got here.”
“Well, as always, you’ve handled things well.”
“Perhaps if you’d take notice of exactly how I handle things instead of running amok on a head of steam, we wouldn’t need to get the hell out of Nassau as soon as possible.”
“But I had no choice. You don’t understand…”
“What I understand is you’ve much to learn about leading. Ye want to lead, and it’s in ye, little Razor, but until you start to pay some attention to how it’s done properly, ye’ll never prove anything to anyone except that ye can kill. Any man or woman can be a killer, if’n the circumstances require the deed. It takes true strength and brains not to kill,” he said, poking himself in the temple and finishing his ale.
“So, what you’re telling me is, I should have let that old rat bastard shoot me?”
He leaned forward and pushed his plate aside. “What I’m telling ye is, if ye want respect from yer mates, and someday even yer crew, ye have to show them how a true leader can have restraint and honor. Ye go around killing like ye been, and all they see is a loaded canon who’ll fire at will—even fire on them. Ye want their respect, not their fear.”
“How would you have done it, then?” I asked, intrigued and hanging on his every word.
“How’d he pull the gun?”
“I knew he was going for something by the look in his eyes. Then, his hands slid back to the edge of the counter.”
“Right there, ye had your chance to call him out on what he was about to do. Why didn’t ye?” He leaned back and folded his arms with a sigh.
“I…I don’t know why. I suppose I didn’t think.” I swallowed hard and reached for my ale to soothe my drying mouth.
“Next time,” he sat forward and scratched his beard and said, “slow down. Breathe, and try to imagine what their next move will be. It’s like when ye pull your sword for a fight. The whole time you’re attacking, your opponent is trying to predict your next swing to keep from losing his head. Watch, pay attention, and predict that next swing, and figure out how to avoid it.”
“I understand.” I didn’t know what else to say. I had no defense. Rasmus was right. Mick told me, more or less, what most of my mates thought of me, and yet I proved him right by killing that innkeeper instead of predicting he would go for his gun and stopping him before he could do it. As I pondered which way my life would turn, I spied the lad, peeking in through the doorway. “See him?”
“Who? That ragged little mutt?”
“Yes, that ragged little mutt. He’s coming with us.”
“Oh, he is, is he? Says who?”
“Says me. He’s got spunk, and he’s all alone. I think he’d make a great sailor someday.” I waved for the boy to come to our table as Rasmus chuckled and stood.
“I’m going to get Fin, and we’ll be on our way. They’ll be searching for that killer soon. I imagine Francis won’t give a shit about ratting us out. If ye feel ye must save that little stray cat, go on ahead, but he’s your responsibility. You’ll let me know if’n ye start rounding up animals as well, so’s I can build ye an ark.” He threw the lad a wink, popped his cavalier on his head, and walked off.
“What’s your name, lad?” I asked him, placing a dollar in his hand.
“Mister, are ye a lady or
a man? ‘Cause ye’s got tits. I ain’t blind ye know, and I ain’t n’er met a man with tits afore.”
“Would it make a bit of difference to you if I was a woman dressed as a man?” I asked him, pushing my unfinished stew and bread towards him. He sat down fast and began to devour it, before answering me with a shake of his head. “Good. I can promise you I can do anything a man can do except piss standing up, ‘cause I’ve no desire to piss in my own boots.” The boy began to laugh with a mouthful of food and coughed, reaching for my ale. “Aren’t you a bit young for this?” I asked, pulling the cup away from him.
“Name’s Kenny,” he said over a cough.
“Kenny, aye? No last name?”
“Don’t know. Ain’t never known.” He worked that last piece of bread around the inside of the bowl until it was so clean it looked as if it had been washed.
“I’m going to call you Penny Kenny. Do you like that?” I asked him, waving over the bartender and asking for a cup of water and another bowl of stew.
“Makes no difference ta me, lady,” he answered, pouring that water down as if he’d not had a drink all day.
“Don’t call me lady. The name is Ivan, Ivan Razor.” As I watched him eat, my mind wandered to what Rasmus had advised. He seemed so agitated with me, and I knew I’d disappointed him, yet again. Although I’d managed not to thrash Valentina in the orange grove, I now believed I’d restrained myself for Rasmus, not of my own will. I had to gain control of my actions fast, because Rasmus’s patience was thinning. I knew I’d better start paying attention and heeding his advice, or else I wouldn’t last to find the Grand Fortune. They were pirates. They wouldn’t run, nor would they give up as easily as the Belle had. My only solace was in knowing I still had time to learn, and I believed, regardless of all of the darkness in my soul, I could harness it and hone it into something more valuable than violence—power.
TWENTY-TWO
SOULS TO THE SEA
We arrived back at Valentina’s by midnight. I stowed Penny Kenny with Fin, and Rasmus and I retired to our room to clean up and prepare to head out in the morning. The house was so quiet for a moment, I imagined he and I were alone, back in our beautiful cottage in the cove.
Master Green had left word that he’d found passage back to Virginia for the girls aboard a merchant ship they’d used previously, but she wouldn’t be arriving for several weeks. I felt secure in the knowledge that this was for the best, since Valentina would have more time with the girls to help them adjust and also time for her to discern if, in fact, Francis was right in her assumption that one or more of them could be with child. If that were the case, she’d have to set yet a different plan in motion.
Rasmus was right, as usual, to trust her and depend on her to make sure they’d all somehow end up all right in the end. Although nothing so far had truly turned out as I had hoped and imagined, I was able to, at last, fall asleep knowing they were free and not lost souls in a sea of decadence and sorrow. My sleep didn’t last long.
“Get up, lass! Get dressed and arm yourself!” Rasmus shouted at me as he blew in through the bedroom door.
“What happened?” I asked as he pulled me from the bed and tossed me to my feet.
“Our dear friend Francis has obviously sung like a bird.” Pulling me towards the open window, he pointed in the direction of the road leading to Valentina’s. I couldn’t believe my eyes. From the second floor, we could clearly see the glow of what appeared to be the flames of at least a dozen torches, carried by men on horseback.
“What do we do?” I asked, pulling on my clothes.
“Grab your weapons and load the pistols while I alert the field workers and have Valentina get the girls out of here and away to safety.”
“Safety? Where?”
“There’s no time to discuss it right now, Ivory. Just get those weapons loaded and meet me downstairs, and be smart about it!”
Rasmus blew out of the room as I scrambled to follow his orders. I could hear him ringing the emergency bell at the back of the house within seconds, as well as the shouts and thumping footsteps of everyone on the second floor as they ran for their lives. A minute later, I was bounding down the stairs and laying out our weapons across the dining room table. “Dammit! Why did he have to send Mick back to the ship? We need more fighting men,” I said, handing out what weapons I could to the field workers as they poured in through the back door. Some of the men were already armed with broadswords and axes. “Arm yourselves, gentlemen, and wait here for Rasmus’s orders,” I said, putting out every light on my way to the front window.
They were only minutes away now, and the single glow of the torches was clear enough now to discern there were more than a dozen riders and even more close behind. My mind scrambled in wonder at who these men were and why they were coming after us. Murder was the one word that caused my mind to swell and ache in worry that everyone around me would die because of my stupidity and brash actions. Not only had I, yet again, acted impulsively and without caution or reason, but I was standing in the dark with a group of men whom I had no idea whether or not could fight.
“Ivory!” I heard Rasmus call out as he entered the living room from behind us.
“Here, Razz!” I called back to him, and he made his way to my side. “Can these men fight?” I whispered to him over my now trembling breath.
“They’re mostly all former pirates, lass, and they’ve been defending this place since I took it over. They can fight. The problem is, I had to send Philippe with Valentina and the girls. I sent Fin through the grove to town to gather the crew, but I’m afraid by the time they get here, it will be too late.”
“This is because of me and what I did.” I looked up at him as our eyes adjusted in the darkness and the slivers of light that shined through the front windows of the house. “When they get here, I’ll give myself up to them and…”
Rasmus grabbed me roughly by the arm and shook me. “You’ll do no such thing. Stop all your nonsense talking, woman. They’ll have to burn the damn place down and chop me into pieces before they get their hands on ye!”
“Then what are we going to do, Razz? We’re far outnumbered, and I don’t want any more blood on my hands because of what I’ve done.”
“Just stay here and let me handle this, and if it comes to a fight, then fight we shall. There’s no sense in me tellin’ ye to run now, because I know ye won’t, but don’t move until I give the signal. Understood?” He walked to the front door and put his hand on the door latch. I heard him let out a sigh, and he turned back to me with his big blue eyes lighting my darkened heart, and he winked, as a smile grew on his lips that I was certain was to try to reassure me he’d be all right.
I could hear the hoofbeats now. They slowed as they approached the house, and Rasmus opened the door and stepped onto the front porch. As they came to a halt, I heard the raspy and boisterous voice of a man shout, “Avast, mates! It be Big Red Bergman ‘imself!”
The hot breath of the field hands blew against the back of my neck as I leaned forward in the dark, watching from the window. I turned quietly to them and said, “Those of you with guns, move to the windows and set your eyes on that finely dressed one who is addressing Captain Bergman. I can assure you, that man is the leader, and obviously a captain as well.” They all did as I advised, as I too readied myself to fire when necessary upon the big, blond, fancy man, who was now dismounting his horse.
The faces of the men surrounding him glowed orange in the torchlight. One by one, they dismounted and stood aside their steeds with their hands resting on their weapons of choice. They were dirty and varied greatly in appearance. Their faces were frightening, and most were scarred or poorly tattooed. I’d never seen such a cast of characters. It was impossible to take my eyes off them, as each man was more interesting looking than the next, albeit in a twisted and bizarre way.
These were pirates, all right, and once I’d adjusted to their menacing presence, I counted eighteen of them. What ship could s
pare that many crewmen just to go after one lousy, murdering pirate? I hushed my inquiring thoughts so that I could overhear every word exchanged between Rasmus and the bejeweled man in the long, emerald coat.
“Captain Bergman,” the man said, sweeping his enormous tricorn hat from his head, brushing it through the air and across his body with a bow.
“Black Eye Woodley. What brings you to Nassau, not to mention out here at this hour? The fruit harvest isn’t for at least another month,” Rasmus joked, removing his cavalier and bowing as well.
“Oh, I’m certain ye know exactly what brings us out here on this shitty evening. The hour is of no importance when there’s a dead innkeeper at the Windy. We have it on the word of a little, bonny, dark-eyed lass that the killer is one of your crew.” The man Rasmus had called Black Eye Woodley stepped towards the front porch and rested his shiny gold-buckled boot upon the bottom step.
“That’s far enough, Woodley. Who sent ye here? Ye ain’t the law, so ye have no business claiming anybody, killer or not,” Rasmus said.
“On the contrary, Red; the Governor ‘imself often calls on gentlemen such as ourselves to lend a hand in situations such as these. There’s pirates everywhere in Nassau, ye know, brother, and I happen to have a great interest in keeping the peace here.”
“Since when?”
“Since he pays in gold for my services. He doesn't much care for the sight of blood; hasn't got the stomach for it.”
“Ye can’t have him. He’s just a kid, and that innkeeper pulled a pistol on him. It was self-defense.”
“Him?” Woodley said over a laugh. “Why, ye must think me an utter fool, Red. Now, ye haven’t been at sea so long ye can’t distinguish a woman from a man, have ye?”
“What are ye talking about?” Rasmus asked.
Jaded Tides (The Razor's Adventures Pirate Tales) Page 18
